


friendly girls are trying to comfort me (as if i'm a depressed chick at a frat party)

by leifstroganoff



Series: i like the old days, but not all the old days [2]
Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Established Relationship, M/M, Self-Destructive Behavior, Self-Esteem Issues, really just leif is a mess and tobin and autumn would like him to take care of himself, zoey max and simon are mentioned but not in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24692131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leifstroganoff/pseuds/leifstroganoff
Summary: When Leif Donnelly says he’s having a bad day, he’s softballing it. Bad day, bad week. He’s trying not to acknowledge the feeling of dread pooling in his stomach, the pressure pushing up into his chest and making him hunger for the feeling of release of letting out a gut-wrenching scream. But, alas, it’s not exactly socially appropriate to scream in the middle of the campus library (no matter how many others in the space might be wanting to do the exact same thing).
Relationships: Tobin Batra & Leif Donnelly, Tobin Batra/Leif Donnelly
Series: i like the old days, but not all the old days [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785175
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	friendly girls are trying to comfort me (as if i'm a depressed chick at a frat party)

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a small thing to channel my anxiety abt certain things and then it became a bigger thing to channel my anxiety about other things and here we are i hope you like it  
> chances are i'll write something else in this college au universe again bc im a sucker for college aus and my boys (also if you squint you can see hints of leif/tobin/autumn poly and uuhh idk i might make that explicit in the future depending on the vibes)

When Leif Donnelly says he’s having a bad day, he’s softballing it. Bad day, _bad week_. He’s trying not to acknowledge the feeling of dread pooling in his stomach, the pressure pushing up into his chest and making him hunger for the feeling of release of letting out a gut-wrenching scream. But, alas, it’s not exactly socially appropriate to scream in the middle of the campus library (no matter how many others in the space might be wanting to do the exact same thing). 

So, he does what he does best, and ignores all of the bad feelings piling up inside of him, choosing instead to read the three assigned readings from his _survey of American literature_ textbook and not actually take in any of the information. Even if the words exit his brain as soon as his eyes have processed them, he can at least feel like he’s doing something productive, ignoring that he’s wasting time doing something he’s just going to have to repeat later (if he wants to pass the class, which is starting to look like it might not be a possibility, which is definitely not contributing to his bad day, bad week mentality, stop asking him about it). 

Studying in the library is his least favorite thing, he thinks. There were no spaces available on the quiet floor (it’s too close to finals to reliably get a seat _anywhere,_ and he wasn’t looking to add physical back pain to his list of problems by sitting in the stacks), so he’s found the most isolated seat he can on the second floor, but it’s still not enough to tune out the rabble of people who use the library as a social space (understandable for group projects, he _guesses,_ but do the sorority girls _really_ need to have a coffee date and loudly talk about how trashed they’re gonna get this weekend? He’s trying to have a personal crisis here and they’re kinda harshing his vibe.); every single noise penetrates his brain and takes even more focus away from the words in front of him, which have _not_ started swimming, because that would mean that he’s not fine and should probably take a break, and he _is_ fine, thank you very much.

He thinks for a second of closing the book, throwing the rest of his third iced latte away (because each sip is making him feel more sick, but, fuck, he needs to stay awake), and giving up to go home and pass the fuck out. But _no_ , he can’t do that, because he remembers why he’s forcing himself to study at the library instead of the comfort and isolation of his room and that reason’s name is _Tobin Batra_. Best friend, resident goofball, and, as of roughly a year ago, the nicest boyfriend he’s had (which isn’t hard to say when you look at his list of exes in combination with how long he’s known Tobin). 

It’s not that he’s avoiding Tobin, it’s just that Tobin does this dumb thing where he worries about him and cares about how he’s doing. Honestly? Leif doesn’t think he can handle that right now. He can’t handle pitying looks and kind gestures of support, mostly because he doesn’t think he _deserves_ those. As if he can tell that his thoughts had wandered to him, his phone lights up where it’s resting on the table with the caller listed as “Tobes <3” and a picture that Tobin had taken when Leif fell asleep on him during a movie night. He tries not to feel bad when he silences the call and turns his phone over, opting to drop his head into his hands instead, begging a full breath to come into his lungs. 

Twenty minutes pass of trying to even his breathing and calm his brain before he registers somebody sliding into the seat on the other side of the table. He looks up to see Autumn, who’s become a very good friend to both him and Tobin since the previous year when Zoey had started inviting her to guild events.

“Hey, buddy. Don’t mean to interrupt your very busy studying that looks like it’s definitely happening.” She gives him a pointed stare when he rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair and pushing down the anxiety that’s raised up. “But, uh, I saw you up here and you looked like you were struggling and... I doubt you’ve had anything but coffee to drink, so I brought you a water cup from downstairs.” She pushes the water that’s in a Starbucks cup across the table and he very hesitantly takes it and takes a sip, shaking his head. “So… you okay?”

“Peachy.” 

The smile he puts on is pretty clearly a fake one, it looks forced and he can’t quite make it reach his eyes; some people might say that Autumn is oblivious, or “a dumb liberal hippie” (actual words from a classmate - I mean, c’mon), but she’s not dumb and she can tell when her friend is hurting.

“What are the chances of you actually telling me what’s bothering you?” 

“Uh, based on past experience and who I am as a person, I’d say a solid 3%.” 

That makes her laugh, at least. 

“You’re telling me if I sit here and bother you, there’s a _non-zero_ chance I can convince you to go to sleep sometime this week?”

“Haha, very funny.” He pauses and the smile falls from his face as she just raises her eyebrows and he hates how easily she can actually read him. “Really, Auts, I’m _fine_.” How tight his hands are around the plastic cup of water directly contradicts the words leaving his mouth.

“Well, most people wouldn’t define fine as not going back to your apartment for two days and ignoring every time your boyfriend tries to call you. I don’t know, call me crazy, but most people who are fine don’t do that.”

“What? Are you spying on me?”

“For _who?_ I’m your friend, Leif, I think I’m allowed to be concerned, especially when I get a call from Tobin asking if I’ve _seen his boyfriend."_

“I’m fine, I’m just… I - I can’t…” He takes the lid off of the cup of water, using the sip he takes as an excuse to delay replying, letting a piece of ice fall into his mouth with the water and crunching down on it. “I feel like a failure and if I see Tobin right now, I’m gonna find a way to disappoint him, and I can’t… I really can’t deal with that, okay?” His voice cracks at the end, his eyes falling from where they’d been meeting Autumn’s own to rest on her hands folded in front of her.

“Do you really think ignoring him, for what seems to him to be _no reason,_ is disappointing him less than, I don’t know, confiding in him? Trusting him? Even if you did _‘find a way to disappoint him’_ , which is a whole other issue that I don’t have time to unpack right now, do you really think that’s worse than making him feel ignored and alone and, more than anything else, _worried_ about you?” 

He can’t find it in himself to respond, knowing that her words are ringing true. He knows that literally everything he’s done for the past week has been self-destructive and that he’s actively hurting the people he cares about, but the thought of facing Tobin now after pushing him away almost seems worse. 

“Listen, I’m not gonna tell you what to do and I’m not gonna pressure you to do the right thing or whatever,” She stands up, pushing her chair in and rounding the table to the side he’s sitting on. “But people care about you. A lot. We like it when you take care of yourself _because_ we care about you, don’t forget that.” She slings her arm around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before leaving the library. 

And _God,_ why does she always have to be right?

He flips his phone back over to see a slew of notifications that he’s been purposely not looking at. There are too many texts from Tobin to count, some from Autumn, some from Simon, some from Zoey and Max, which he didn’t really expect. There are a couple of missed calls from his parents that he thinks he’s resigned to let stay _missed_ calls for now. 

With a sigh, he shoves the books on the table into his backpack and stands up, shrugging the straps over his shoulders and heading down to the first floor as he presses ‘call’ on Tobin’s number.

“Dude, what the hell, where have you been?”

“I know, I know, I’m… I’m sorry.” The anxious pressure in his chest only increases when he hears Tobin’s voice, his legs taking him down the stairs and through the first floor of the library with practiced ease, moving more on impulse than actual thought. “It was really shitty to withdraw and you have every right to be pissed, but I just… I just wanted you to know I’m okay. I’m on my way home and then we can talk… or - or whatever you wanna do, I don’t know, I’m just - I’m on my way to the apartment, that’s what I’m saying.”

“I’m not - Jesus Christ, I’m not mad, dude, I’ve been fucking worried about you, I thought I’d done something or - or that you were dead in a fucking ditch or the back of some creep’s van, ass.”

He opens the door to the library and there’s the _cherry on fucking top_ of everything, it’s pouring down rain and he still has to bike home.

“I know - I really am sorry. I’ll… I’ll talk to you when I get home.”

“You better. I love you, jackass.” 

“Love you, too.” 

The words come out with practiced ease - he knows he means them, but the numbness that’s starting to overtake makes it hard to feel it as strongly as he wants to. 

He twists his backpack around, to put his phone at the bottom, praying that the bag is waterproof enough to protect it, before he steps into the rain towards the bike rack and unlocks his bike, hopping on and beginning to peddle towards their apartment. 

By the time he unlocks the door and walks into the apartment, he’s soaked from head to toe, sweater and button up hanging heavy and clinging to his skin in the most uncomfortable way he could imagine, his slacks doing much the same. When he walks into the living room, dropping his soaked backpack onto the coffee table, Tobin is sitting on the couch playing on his phone.

 _“Dude,_ you’re soaked.”

“Wow, how did you notice that?” 

It feels mean and he knows it _is_ mean, but everything is clinging to him and the sensation is making his skin tingle, nausea taking over his entire body, and the anxious pit in his stomach hasn’t ceased. He doesn’t really have the energy to filter the mean thoughts from the ones he’s allowed to say.

“Sorry. I’m just gonna, uh, change and dry off and then we can… talk.”

He disappears into his room, changing into a t-shirt and sweatpants and taking a second to collect himself (and if he has to take a second to dry heave in the bathroom because he feels like any second he’s either going to pass out or vomit, that’s nobody’s business but his own). 

Tobin is exactly where he left him when he comes back out. He locks his phone and tosses it forward onto the coffee table, looking expectantly up at Leif where he’s awkwardly lumbering at the edge of the room. He crosses the floor and sits on the couch next to him, taking a deep breath as he runs slender fingers through still-damp hair.

“Um, I’m gonna start with an apology, I guess. I shouldn’t have disappeared like that. That wasn’t cool.”

“No shit, but apology accepted. Do you wanna tell me what’s up or am I gonna have to guess that, too?”

Leif can’t even be upset at the dig, because it’s _fair._ He rubs both hands down his face, letting them trail over his lips and off his jaws with a deep breath before he decides he should just get it over with and _trust_ Tobin.

“I’m failing English. And I will probably go from _failing_ to _failed_ if I don’t get a hundred on the final. And my parents paying for tuition and subsequently also rent on this place is one hundred percent predicated on me staying on _at least_ the Dean’s list and classes are already paid for for at least this next semester so they can’t, like, _take that away_ , but I do kind of need to pay rent. _And_ my brother just found out he got into Harvard _and_ Yale _and_ Cornell and of course I’m so proud of him, but I can’t… I can’t fail like this and constantly be reminded that they’re succeeding, y’know? I just - I can’t and I’m spiraling and I -”

He cuts himself off when Tobin rests a hand on his knee, rubbing softly. It’s too much. It’s too much and he should’ve stayed at the library, where Tobin wasn’t being understanding and kind and caring, because he doesn’t deserve understanding and kindness, he’s a failure and he deserves to be treated like a failure and -

“Why didn’t you just talk to me?” Sometime during Leif’s spiraling train of thought, Tobin’s hand left his knee and his entire arm was moved to rest around him, rubbing at his shoulder instead in a half-hug. 

“I don’t know, I -” That’s a lie. He knows that it’s because he’s certain one more neurotic episode could be exactly what finally drives Tobin away and he thinks he can handle that less than anything else. “I guess I was scared or… or ashamed, I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“ _For what?_ I’m the one who dropped off the face of the earth.” 

“No, I’m sorry that you feel like that. I - I mean, I want you to be able to come to me about this stuff. I’m here for you, dude. I’ve been here for a decade, it’s not like I’m looking to go anywhere.”

And it’s like Tobin knew exactly what he needed to hear right at that moment. _I’m not going anywhere._

“I’m sorry I didn’t. Come to you, I mean. And I’m sorry for pushing you away. Just… sorry, in general, I guess.” 

“It’s cool, just… don’t do it again. I mean it when I say I’m here for you. You don’t have to face anything alone, got that?”

“Yeah,” He finally lets out a full exhale, leaning into the half-hug. “Yeah, cool.”

“Cool. Then we’re cool.” His arm retreats from around his shoulders, moving down instead to grab his hand and hold it in his own, resting on Leif’s leg as he leans forward to press a soft kiss to his temple. “I might not be a mind-reader, but you haven’t been home in two days which means you either haven’t slept or you’ve slept in classrooms, which _ew._ So... I think you owe me some cuddling and you owe yourself a good night’s sleep. That sound okay?”

He squeezes Tobin’s hand lightly, letting a small smile grace his face. “That sounds better than you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment to validate me and give me serotonin for the week


End file.
